Page 163 of Things I Wish I Said
A wry laugh sounds in the back of my throat as I take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Oh, I don’t know. How about somethinglike, ‘I know this week hasn’t exactly gone as I planned, but at least I have you? At least I’m still here, living, and breathing, grateful to have a fighting chance.’ Or maybe something about how you’re sorry you dragged me clear across the country to your award only to ditch me in a theater full of strangers in the middle of a foreign city?”
Ryleigh barks out a laugh. “Oh, I’m so sorry to drag you all the way here. I didn’t know it was such a hardship.”
I sigh, frustrated about letting my anger get to me. “You know what I mean.”
“And saying this week didn’t go according to plan is an extreme understatement,” she says, beginning to pace. “Do you have any idea how hard these last few days have been?”
“I have a clue. I was here.”
“Did you know that during the interview today, half of it was about my diagnosis? He didn’t ask me about my dreams for the future or give me any playful questions like they’ve done in the past about sports I wish I could play, or things I’m embarrassingly terrible at or family or my life outside soccer. No!” The vein in her forehead pulses. “He asked me a couple questions about soccer, and the rest were what it was like to battle cancer.”
A pang of sympathy echoes through me, but I don’t dare sympathize with her for fear she’ll mistake it as pity. “I’m sorry that happened. That sucks.” I shake my head. “I can’t imagine what that must feel like, but did you really think no one would ask? That it wouldn’t come up? Like it or not, Ry, your illness is a part of you now.”
“This was supposed to be about my achievements. Soccer. Not my health. The one thing I didn’t want to be remembered for is this!” She clutches at her chest. “I thought this was my chance to be remembered for something bigger and better than the shell I’ve become. I want them to remember The Missile, not Ryleigh Sinclair, the poor girl whose career was cut short.”
“I get that, I really do. No one is contesting how amazing you were at soccer, and I hate that this happened to you, but maybe it’s time you stop living in the past and start looking to the future.”
She scoffs. “That’s easy for you to say.”
I flinch.
“At least you have a future, though you’ve spent the last year living in the past.”
Her words hit me like a sucker punch.
I inhale, acknowledging she has a point. “Maybe, but that’s over now.”
“Oh, it’s over now? What about how you’ve also pushed everyone away? Your mom, your friends, and teammates . . .” My eyes widen. “Did you think Cameron didn’t tell me about how you had essentially gone MIA? You let your team down, your friends and family down, all because you couldn’t put the past behind you, but I’m supposed to do the same?”
I swallow. “Maybe I was like that, but I’m better now. I don’t want to live in the past anymore.”
“Oh, really?”
I nod. “You opened my eyes. You made me see clearly again, showed me that I can still love baseball without my father here to see it. That it’s okay to move on even if he’s gone.”
I step forward, wanting to pull her into my arms, but the anger in her gaze warns me off. Instead, I fist my hands at my side, itching to touch her. “And, yeah, after my father died, I put some walls up. It was a hell of a lot easier to push everyone away, to numb myself, instead of feeling and fearing another loss, but then I met you. And, damn it, I fell for you, Sinclair. So hard. Every part of you. Not just your past, but your present. The you right now. The woman. Not just the soccer player, but all your parts. Your bravery and strength. Your snark and kindness. Your enthusiasm and fierce determination. You’re fucking beautiful, Ry, inside and out, and I’m so twisted up for you.” My throat bobs, my nerves fried as I whisper, “I love you.”
Her lips thin. “You shouldn’t.”
Her words twist in my side like a knife.
“But I do.”
“All I’ll do is bring you down.”
“You’re my future, Ry.” I step closer, only for her to take one step back.
“I don’t have a future,” she says, her tone flat.
“Don’t say that. We talked about—”
“This opened my eyes. There’s no point in doing the trial.”
The knife twists deeper, the pain behind my ribs strong enough to make me double over. “No. You said you wanted a future with me. Youagreed—”
“I know what I said.” Her eyes meet mine, strangely devoid of emotion. “And I lied. I got laid, had fun. It’s all I wanted.”
I swallow, finding it hard to breathe. “You’re pushing me away. I know that’s what you’re doing. You think your mother’s better off with you gone, just like you think you’ll drag me down. But you won’t, Ry. You don’t get to choose who I love. It’s not a switch I can flip off. You once asked me if I loved Rachel, and do you remember what I said?”
